


The Scientific Method

by Lenore



Series: Alien Biology Is Hard [2]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Alien Biology, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-27
Updated: 2011-08-27
Packaged: 2017-10-23 03:23:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/245751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenore/pseuds/Lenore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alien physiology continues to present challenges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Scientific Method

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://rivkat.livejournal.com/profile)[**rivkat**](http://rivkat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://mecurtin.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://mecurtin.livejournal.com/)**mecurtin** had this idea about Clark's anatomy and gave me the chance to write. And I just couldn't resist. This story is for them.

It took Clark longer to notice than it probably should have. But the honeymoon atmosphere of lingering kisses, smoldering glances and more sex than anyone could possibly have survived without an alien's invincibility or a meteor-enhanced metabolism did tend to obscure things.

When Clark finally came out of his orgasmic stupor long enough to string a thought together, it struck him that, despite promising to do absolutely everything with him, Lex still hadn't fucked him yet.

For once, he decided to forego his own natural reaction to such a problem (pouting) and approach it the way Lex would (scientifically). Clark's bio class had covered the basics of research methodology, and he knew all about stimulus and response. And while he wouldn't be curing cancer any time soon, he had a certain finesse when it came to stimulating Lex. The responses to his desperate pleas to be fucked, however, were less than heartening:

2 I'm really tired right nows  
5 we don't have enough times  
9 wouldn't you like to fuck me insteads  
And even 1 lame ass the gardener might see when Clark had gotten amorous in the gazebo

He was now officially upset.

Armed with his research findings, he stormed into Lex's office one afternoon after school. In his distress, he reverted back to his own way of doing things, bypassing the subtlety Lex would have chosen in favor of the more obvious approach

"Why won't you fuck me?" he demanded, rather loudly, hands on his hips.

"Clark." Lex blinked, obviously taken aback. But he quickly flashed the same disarming smile that Clark recognized from all the other times he'd weaseled out of fucking him. "You know there's nothing I'd like more than to bend you over my desk right now. But I have some urgent business, and—"

"And bullshit!" Clark shook with frustration. "Now that I think about it, you've never even put your _finger_ in there."

"You're still new to all this," Lex tried to soothe him. "I didn't want to do anything to make you uncomfortable."

"You're avoiding my ass!" Clark pointed accusingly. "And I want to know why."

"Don't you think you're overreacting a little?"

"No. This is important. Tell me what's wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you." Lex sighed. "Let's sit down, huh? And talk about this rationally."

Clark kicked sulkily at the leg of the desk, but he did allow Lex to guide him over to the sofa.

"Don't lie to me," he said. "I know something's the matter."

"Clark, it's just—you're—unique. And there are some special considerations—"

"I thought you said it didn't matter that I'm—" He ducked his head. "An alien."

"Oh, Clark." Lex cupped the back of Clark's head in his hand. "It doesn't. You know that."

"Then why don't you want me that way?"

"I do! Of course I do. It's just—"

"What?"

"How much do you understand about the physical mechanics of orgasm?"

"After all the sex we've had in the last three weeks?"

"Okay, so you know how the internal muscles contract during climax?"

"Yes."

"And you know how your muscles are stronger than the average person's—"

"You mean, you think—"

"I don't know, Clark. You don't knock down houses when you sneeze. So in all likelihood there's no reason to worry—I'm just not sure I want to be the one to test that theory, you know?"

Clark sat stunned, tears gathering in his eyes. "You're afraid of me."

Lex grabbed his arm. "No, I'm not! That's not what I'm saying at all."

"Yes, you are!" Clark said passionately, jumping to his feet. "You're terrified of my cock-crushing alien asshole. Just admit it!"

"Okay, when you put it that way, I do have to wince."

"I knew it!"

"Clark, I'm only saying—"

"Just forget it!"

He stomped off in a huff.

"Clark!"

He slammed the door hard enough to make the wall shake, like the dangerous—door-slamming alien that he was. Just to be spiteful, he hoped he'd left cracks in the plaster.

* * *

Clark's anger soon gave way to misery, however. He slept fitfully, woke up grumpy, trudged off to school like he was facing a prison sentence. Once he got there, he was treated to the sight of Lana hanging all over her new boyfriend, the Whitney clone who was the star pitcher on the baseball team.

It stung, not because he wanted her back or anything. But because it reminded him. Here was yet another person who'd rejected him for being an alien. He imagined Lana and Lex forming a support group, like those people who claimed they'd been kidnapped by extraterrestrials. Only this group would be for people who'd had close encounters of the intimate kind. Alien _seductees,_ they could call themselves. Maybe they'd even print T-shirts: _I survived The Tentacle!_

Clark's life sucked. It really did.

In the evenings, he slipped into the bathroom, locked the door, borrowed some of his mother's baby oil and pretended to take a shower while he experimented on himself. It was surprisingly embarrassing to finger his own ass and presented something of a coordination challenge as well, trying to do that and jerk off at the same time. It was useless anyway. It wasn't as if he could crush his own finger, not if the wood chipper hadn't left a scratch.

Lex continued to call, diligently, every day, usually several times. Clark refused to take his calls, telling his mother to say he wasn't home, wasn't feeling well, had fallen and couldn't get up, whatever excuse she wanted to give.

When the phone rang at breakfast on day four of his miserable exile from everything that gave him a reason to live, he begged pathetically, "Don't answer it, Mom."

She gave him a sympathetic look but picked up the phone anyway. "Hello?" She glanced at Clark. "Oh hi, Lex."

Clark shook his head vigorously and mouthed the words, "I'm not here."

"I'm sorry. He can't come to the phone right now," his mother lied, not very smoothly. "Yes, I sure will. I'll tell him. Okay. You take care, too." She hung up the phone and came back to the table. "That's the fifth time he's called in the past two days, Clark."

"I'm sorry, Mom. I just—I don't want to talk to him right now."

"He didn't do anything we should know about, did he? Some underhanded scheme to learn your secret?" his father asked, suspiciously.

"He's not like that, Dad," Clark mumbled.

"He's a Luthor. He's exactly like that."

"Jonathan!" Martha scolded. She patted Clark on the shoulder. "I'm sure whatever happened will work itself out."

"Yeah. Probably," Clark said, without any real conviction.

It took several more days before Lex finally showed up at the farm. Clark was in the loft, ostensibly studying, but actually just wallowing in self-pity.

"Clark."

He tensed at the sound of Lex's voice. "What do you want?"

"Just to talk."

"I think you've already said enough."

Lex sat down on the sofa beside him. "What I said and what you heard weren't quite the same thing."

Clark turned away from him. "I understood you perfectly well."

"Clark." Lex put his hand on his shoulder. Clark stiffened, but Lex didn't pull away. "I know you're upset, but how can I make it up to you if you won't even talk to me?"

Lex's hand started to rub circles on his back, and Clark couldn't help responding to his touch, his shoulders relaxing a little.

"I could handle it when Lana was afraid of me. But not you." Clark shook his head. "Not you, Lex."

Lex's arms went around him, and Clark couldn't bring himself to pull away. God. He'd missed Lex, too.

"I am _not_ afraid of you." Lex pressed a kiss to his ear. "I trust you like I've never trusted anybody else. You have to know that."

Clark turned around to face him. "So what was that about the other day?*

"I just think it's best to be cautious. Because your physiology is different, and we don't completely understand how your body works. That's all."

Clark stared down at the floor. "I hate my stupid alien body."

"Oh, Clark." Lex pulled him into his arms, stroked his hair. Clark closed his eyes and pressed his face against Lex's shoulder.

"Wouldn't you hate it if you were me?" he asked.

Lex smiled. "Sure. I mean, tall, buff, hung and gorgeous. Who wouldn't hate that?"

Clark laughed despite himself. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah. I know. But what have I told you about giving up too easily?"

"What can we possibly do about _this_?"

"I'll figure something out." He kissed Clark's temple. "Are we okay now?"

"Yeah." Clark took a deep breath. "But what if we can't? Ever."

"There are plenty of other things we _can_ do. All of them incredibly fun. I don't think we have to worry about boredom setting in anytime soon. You just have to remember that penetration isn't the only way to have sex."

"It's the _best_ way," Clark grumbled.

"Try to work with me here, Clark, okay?"

Clark sighed. "Okay. I'm sorry. I do want to work on it."

"Good," Lex said, giving Clark one last kiss before getting to his feet. "Come to the castle tomorrow after school, and we'll get started. If you can find some way to talk your parents into letting you stay the weekend, that would be even better."

"Okay," Clark said. And then gratefully, "Thanks, Lex."

Lex smiled. He cupped Clark's face in his hands and gave him a long, wet kiss that made Clark's heart skip beats. Yeah. He'd _really_ missed that.

"Thank _you_ ," Lex said. "For not giving up."

Clark watched him head back down the stairs. For the first time all week, he actually smiled.

* * *

_There's a Star Trek marathon on cable._ Clark frowned at himself in the mirror. _Big history test coming up. Need round-the-clock tutoring._ He tried smiling, but that just made him look shifty. _We're working on a scientific experiment to see if it's safe for Lex to fuck me or if my alien asshole would prematurely end his sex life._ Clark sighed. Okay, so telling the truth clearly wasn't an option.

Finally, on Friday just before he left for school, he nervously blurted out, "Can I spend the weekend at the castle with Lex?"

His father frowned, "I don't know if I like the idea—"

"Sure, honey," his mother said. "I'm glad you boys managed to patch things up."

She gave his father one of her my-mind-is-made-up-about-this looks, and nobody ever argued with that. Clark smiled and kissed her on the cheek.

"Thanks, Mom."

She smiled back. "Have fun, sweetheart."

When the useless annoyance of classes was finally over, Clark raced to the castle, leaving skid marks in at least one cornfield. Happily, Lex was not on the phone or hovering over the laptop or otherwise inconveniently engaged in business when he arrived. After a few heated kisses and some recreational groping, they hurried up to Lex's room for the serious work of the afternoon.

Clark unbuttoned his shirt, toed off his shoes, sat down on the bed to remove his socks.

"So what are we going to do?"

Lex held up a hand. "First we need the right equipment."

"Equipment?" Clark repeated, a little anxiously.

Lex disappeared into his cavernous closet. A few minutes later, he emerged carrying a brown paper bag.

"Somehow I imagined something you couldn't buy at the grocery store," Clark said.

Lex smiled. "Don't be fooled by the package, Clark. This is the best that Swedish engineering has to offer."

He opened the bag and took out a—long, somewhat pointed object, plastic, brightly colored—okay, a dildo. Clark could admit that he knew the word. Lex proudly held it up for his inspection, and Clark's mouth fell open.

Lex waved it in the air. "It's—"

"I _know_ what it is," he said, embarrassed.

After everything he and Lex had done together, it was rather amazing that he could still blush. But sex toys. God.

"Well, then, you get the idea of the plan."

"It's, uh—purple." Clark swallowed nervously. "And kind of big."

Lex grinned. "I wanted you to think of me."

Clark must have looked ready to dart for the door, because Lex swooped over and laid a kiss on him that would have made an ordinary man forget his own name.

"Don't panic," Lex said. "I realize a dildo may seem a little off-putting at first, but you're going to like this. I promise."

Clark shifted his weight awkwardly. "So what do I do?"

"Get your clothes off and get in bed." He gave Clark another quick kiss. "And try to relax, okay?"

"Okay," Clark mumbled.

He wasn't really sure he could do that, but he shucked the rest of his clothes. Lex undressed too, and they lay down together. They kissed and touched, and Lex fingered him, opening him up, slicking him inside. Nothing had ever felt more amazing, and soon enough, Clark's body was flushed and raring to go. So much for nervousness.

"Please!" he begged.

"Turn onto your side."

He rolled over and felt the slick press of the dildo against his hole.

Lex kissed his shoulder. "Just relax. Try to breathe out. Tell me if anything hurts."

"Just do it. Please." His voice echoed off the walls, strained and needy.

"Okay, baby. Here it comes. Just like it's me fucking you."

Clark whimpered, softly at first, and then more loudly, as the pressure built and his body was breached.

"All right?"

He nodded and pushed back with his hips. "More."

"Yeah, yeah," Lex said.

But Lex was Lex, a control freak to the end, and every push was slow, careful, an excruciating tease. By the time the toy was all the way inside him, Clark was babbling mindlessly—half-formed pleas and broken sentences of encouragement and incoherent words of pleasure.

"Touch yourself," Lex said silkily in his ear.

Clark eagerly took his cock in his hand and started to stroke. He moaned out loud.

"Is it good?" Lex asked.

Clark nodded, his whole body trembling.

Lex licked his neck. "It's going to get a whole lot better."

A flick of his hand, and then Clark's eyes went wide, his body still. "Fuck!" he screamed, kicking out his feet, desperately pushing back against the vibrating dildo, trying to get more, more, more.

Lex laughed huskily. "I'm afraid my dick doesn't do that. Just so you know."

Clark made some incomprehensible animal sound and frantically pumped his own dick, while Lex worked him hard with the dildo. He closed his eyes and gasped for breath and screamed "Ahhhhhhhhhh!" as he came.

Unfortunately, the music of his climax was a duet, his cries of pleasure accompanied by the ominous sound of plastic cracking and metal crunching.

"Oh God, oh God," he panted, the high of orgasm undercut by the realization that he had a pneumatic press for an asshole.

Lex strung kisses over his back and neck and shoulders to comfort him. "It's okay. It's okay."

When Clark's shudders subsided, Lex carefully removed the mangled dildo from his body.

"Let me see," Clark said.

"Maybe that's not such a good idea."

Clark turned over to take a look anyway. It was pulverized beyond recognition.

"Oh my God," Clark said, feeling suddenly sick. That could have been Lex.

"Don't freak out," Lex said. "This is actually a positive thing. Now we have some data to work with." He sounded upbeat, in a forced kind of way.

"I'm a fucking menace!" Clark wailed. "Literally." He scrambled off the bed, ran for the bathroom and locked himself inside.

He sat down on the toilet lid and held his head in his hands, miserably.

Lex knocked at the door. "Clark? Come on out, huh? Let's talk about this."

"What is there to say?" He kicked dejectedly at the side of the tub.

"I'm sure it's not as bad as it seems. At least, we learned more about what your body can do."

"That's just great. It's like something out of a really bad comic book. The sphincter of steel. Able to maim sexual partners with a single orgasm. Now there's a super power to prize."

"Clark, science is a process of trial and error. We can't just give up after one little set back. We have to keep investigating. Keep looking for answers."

Clark sighed heavily. But he did get up and open the door. "Maybe we should just call the whole thing off."

"That was only our first experiment."

"I mean this relationship."

Lex gave him an oh-please look.

"If I can't—if you can't—It'll just fall apart anyway."

Lex rolled his eyes. "Okay, just so you know, this is another one of those uncomplimentary misimpressions you have of me."

"Oh come on, Lex. You know you're going to want to—eventually." Lex crossed his arms over his chest. "What? You're telling me that you'd be satisfied never being on top again?"

"Yes, Clark. That's exactly what I'm telling you. I realize you have this picture of me as a fuck-crazed sex machine who can't go ten minutes without sticking his dick into a convenient hole. But, as it happens, there are more important things to me."

"Like?"

"Like the fact that I love you."

Clark's mouth hung open for a moment. "Oh."

"Yeah."

He smiled, brilliantly. " _Oh._ " And kissed Lex hard enough to leave bruises.

Lex laughed and wrapped his arms around him. "You are such a dope sometimes, you know?"

Clark nodded. "I know."

Lex pulled back, brushed Clark's hair away from his face. "Come back to bed." He gave Clark a dirty, sloppy, perfect kiss, tracing the outline of his lips with his tongue. "I have this irresistible urge to stick my dick into something hot and wet and luscious. And while we're at it, we can test that theory I have about your lack of a gag reflex."

He smiled wickedly and pushed Clark onto the bed. And Clark had to admit that sometimes science did have a certain allure.

* * *

A soft scratching sound woke Clark the next morning. He opened one eye and flopped onto his stomach. Lex was sitting up in bed, writing in a notebook.

"What are you doing?" he asked, sleepily.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you." Lex ran his fingers through Clark's hair. "I just had some thoughts I wanted to get down. Do you mind answering a few questions?"

"I guess not."

"Good." Lex shifted onto his side and rested the notebook against Clark's shoulder. "So tell me again about how your heat vision developed."

"You pretty much know everything already. It started because I—" He looked away.

"Got a hard on for my wife," Lex said, dryly.

"I didn't know she was—"

"And then nearly burned down the Talon in your horny enthusiasm for my business partner."

"But you know I didn't mean to—"

Lex grinned at him.

"Fuck you," Clark said. But he couldn't keep the affection out of his voice.

"I'm working on it." Lex fiddled contemplatively with his pen. "Back to the heat vision. Describe learning to control it for me."

"Well, it was my father's idea. He said that I should focus on how I felt when, you know, it happened. And then practice. So that's what I did. A half dozen scarecrows later, and I could control it."

"Do you remember what you were thinking as you were practicing?"

Clark scrunched up his forehead, considering. "I don't know. I was pretty desperate. Setting things on fire—God. I could have seriously hurt Lana. Or anyone in my bio class. I guess I was thinking that I needed to get it under control so I wouldn't be a danger to people. I started imagining the scarecrow as someone I cared about. My dad or mom. You. And that made it easier not to, you know, accidentally incinerate it."

"Mmm. That's good." Lex's pen scratched over the page.

Clark propped himself up on his elbow to take a look. And frowned. "What—"

"Code. In case the wrong person ever gets their hands on these notes."

Clark raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, I do know what a big geek I am." Lex gave him a quick kiss. "Now that day at the bridge, after you'd pulled me out of the river, what were you thinking then?"

"That I didn't want you to die?"

Lex stroked Clark's arm fondly. "And I appreciate that. So you'd say your adrenaline was pumping?"

"Definitely."

"And when you gave me CPR, were you trying to be gentle?"

"Um. Well. I was really just focused on getting you to breathe again and I guess I didn't think too much about the possibility of hurting you." His voice went soft. "I'm sorry."

Lex patted him. "Don't be silly. You saved my life. And didn't even bruise my ribs, much less break them. Even trained EMT personnel can't always manage that."

He made a note of this, too.

"Can you think of any times when you've accidentally hurt someone? When your strength has just gotten away from you?"

"I'm hell on Mom's dishes."

"Okay, but what about with people? Have you accidentally hurt anyone you were trying to rescue? When you were acting on instinct?"

"I did throw that fraternity guy who was hassling Lana pretty far."

"But that was a fight. And, be honest, you meant to do it."

Clark squirmed uncomfortably. "Okay. I meant to."

"So no accidents then?"

"Not that I can think of."

"Good." He jotted that down.

"So does this mean you've figured something out?" Clark asked, hopefully.

"I have what I would call a working hypothesis."

"Cool!" Clark sat up, his body thrumming with excitement.

"But we'll need to test it."

"Is this going to involve a lot more damage to a lot more sex toys?"

Lex shook his head. "Much simpler than that."

"So what do we need to do?"

"Have sex."

All Clark could do for several long moments was stare. "A brilliant scientific mind, and that's what you come up with?"

"It's going to be okay, Clark. I promise."

Clark jumped up from bed and started to pace. "You don't know that. Look what I did to the dildo."

"An inanimate object. Not the same thing."

"What the hell difference does it make?"

"It makes _all_ the difference. You knew you couldn't hurt it, so you were free to let go completely. But with a person, someone you could injure, your body would naturally compensate."

"How can you possibly know that?"

"Because it always has before. Even when your heat vision was out of control, you set _objects_ on fire. Not people. Thinking about the scarecrow as a person, not a thing, helped you get it under control. That's no accident. Neither is the fact that you've never, not even once, hurt someone you were trying to help, no matter how instinctively you were reacting or how wired with adrenaline."

"So what are you saying?"

"That you have some inner safety mechanism that moderates your strength so you don't do damage when you don't mean to. An impulse to protect that operates on the most basic level. Call it an instinct or a reflex. Or just plain decency. Whatever. But it exists. I'm certain of it."

"How can you be so sure?"

Lex smiled. "Because I know you." He patted the bed beside him. "Come here."

Clark took a deep breath. "Lex, I don't think—"

"Clark. Come here."

He sighed. But did what Lex wanted anyway.

"I'm scared," he admitted in a small voice.

Lex put his arm around him. "It's going to be okay."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You're not going to."

Clark really wanted to believe that, but, God, he just didn't have as much confidence as Lex seemed to.

"How do want to do this?" Lex asked.

"On my back," Clark said. "So I can see your face. Just in case. Maybe I could stop if—" he trailed off.

There just wasn't any good way to talk about breaking your boyfriend's penis.

"Okay," Lex said. "Why don't you get comfortable?"

Clark scooted onto the bed and lay back. Lex knelt between his knees. Lubed them both and pulled Clark's legs over his shoulders.

"Maybe we shouldn't—" Clark said, starting to panic in earnest.

"Yes, we should." Lex kissed the insides of his thighs. "Are you ready?"

Clark held his breath. Lex gently eased inside him. It was—and yet, was not—like being penetrated by the toy. There was the same initial burning pain, the same sensation of fullness, but Lex was warm and throbbing with need and so wonderfully alive. Lex was Lex, and nothing had ever been better.

"Oh, God," Clark moaned, pushing back into every stroke.

"You feel so amazing, Clark. So fucking amazing."

Lex's face was open, his smile bright. He looked—happy. And Clark had done that. Clark had made Lex happy. If he never accomplished anything else in his whole life, that would be enough.

"I love you, too," he said.

And Lex looked even happier.

There was a part of Clark that needed to come so badly, and another part that never wanted to come at all. A little because he was afraid what might happen. But mostly just because he never wanted this to end.

Still, super stamina was not one of his gifts, and too soon he felt the familiar ache in his balls, the tingling at the base of his cock.

"Lex, stop. Stop! I'm going to—"

"Come for me, Clark. Do it. I want you to."

"Oh God!" he screamed, his cock spurting in his hand.

As he spiraled away into oblivion, he was dimly aware of Lex's body jerking, the sound of Lex crying out. When he came to his senses again, Lex was slumped against him, and Clark became frantic.

"Lex. Lex!"

Lex looked up and smiled.

"Are you okay?" Clark asked, anxiously.

Lex's smile widened. "I don't think 'okay' even begins to describe it."

He gently pulled out of Clark and flopped onto the bed beside him. Clark nervously checked Lex's dick for damage, but there didn't appear to be any.

"I didn't crush you."

Lex smiled, a little smugly. "Told you."

"My alien asshole isn't a dick-killing machine," Clark said, deeply relieved.

Lex laughed, turned onto his side and kissed Clark affectionately. "Congratulations."

"God, I'm so glad. So glad we can have a normal sex life."

He snuggled into Lex's arms. But then his confidence faltered a little.

"You do think we can a normal sex life, don't you, Lex? I mean, there's nothing else that can go wrong, is there?"

"I don't see what possibly could." Lex rubbed reassuring circles over his back. "We dealt with the big cock issue. And now we have no more worries about your ass. Your come isn't toxic, or I'd already be dead by now."

"That's true."

"I'd say we've come to the end of your physiological quirks."

Clark let out his breath. "Thank God!"

"I mean, it's not like I'm going to get you pregnant or anything," Lex kidded.

They both laughed, until suddenly it didn't seem quite as funny, and they stopped, rather awkwardly.

"Maybe we should—" Clark said, nervously.

"I'll lay in a supply of condoms," Lex assured him. "Not that I think we have any reason to worry."

"No," Clark said, with as much conviction as he could muster. "Of course not."

But he could already foresee some frantic moments ahead of him, hanging over an EPT test waiting for it to, please God!, not turn blue. And if his father somehow happened on the box in the trash—oh yeah, he could just imagine that conversation.

It was a good thing he loved Lex. It really was. Especially if it turned out that his jokester alien biology had even bigger tricks to play on them.


End file.
